


The Coat

by raktajinos



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Anthropomorphic, Community: gameofcards, Crack, Flash Fic, M/M, POV Inanimate Object
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-23 00:55:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3749038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raktajinos/pseuds/raktajinos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack's coat has a major crush on Ianto.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Coat

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this for a challenge at the lj community 'gameofcards' the challenge was to write a story from an inanimate object's perspective. So naturally I picked Jack's coat. This is unbeta'd and was written in like 15 minutes.

Oh, the things I could tell you...the things I have seen. Some of them would truly horrify you, and some of them, most of them, would be the filthiest thing you’d ever heard in your life. 

By now, I can almost predict _His_ behaviour to a ninety-nine percent accuracy. Sometimes He’ll throw me a curveball, do something in the spur of the moment that I couldn’t have predicted. But when it comes to most things, to people, He’s wildly predictable. Sure, He likes to experiment with things, try a different path on his walk about town, order a different type of dish, but He was a man of habits. He would deny it and he truly doesn’t believe he is, but He’s been dressing in the same outfit for nearly four hundred years...do you really have to look much further than that.

That’s what I thought. 

He’s most predictable in the fact that He’ll _screw_ anything. He thinks everything is attractive and would never say no, but sometimes He’s got blinders on. When that boy, the one who serves the coffee, oh, I knew before _He_ did that we’d be together. 

“By the way, love the coat” he’d said one afternoon. I remember it so vividly, I’d just had a bath and He’d dutifully cleaned off whatever alien muck he’d gotten on me. The sun was shining and I could feel it slowly heating me up, my brass fixtures gleaming in the sun. Coffee boy was talking, I enjoyed the sound of his voice, even though I wasn’t always listening. Human life is so terribly dull for my kind. But then he’d said, those three favourite human words of mine, “love the coat”. I knew then that _He_ would have him, that _we_ would have him. He put up a good fight, one I didn’t understand, his refusal to follow his normal behaviour pattern frustrating me. I wanted him; the way he dressed showed he had a respect for fabric; his shoes were always polished and he never spilled. 

Plus, when he, the coffee boy, took over my weekly beauty treatments, he treated me so well, like royalty. No longer was I bathed in ‘water’, but now with water infused with lavender and bergamot essential oils, and I was brushed with a brush so soft it could have been made from the clouds themselves. I knew then that he wanted me too, I mean, why wouldn’t he, I’m fabulous. And yet, _He_ wouldn’t do anything about it. I was being kept from My True Love because He was being, what? Polite? Conservative? Celibate? Jack Harkness had never been any of those things in his entire life. So I was forced to help things along. I did what I could, draping myself suggestively over furniture and on hooks, calling to the coffee boy, willing him to pick me up and touch me. I knew if He could see me being so intimately cared for by the Boy, then He’d finally cave to his nature. 

And he did. _Finally._

Now we are finally together, me and _Ianto_ ; I learned his name. All those human vowels make such a lovely sound to refer to him by. _Ianto_. And the coffee boy has developed _quite_ a fetish for me, if you know what I mean. Sometimes I wonder if he’d rather be with me than with _him_ anyways. One time, Coffee Boy put me on without wearing anything else. He wrapped me around his body, took pleasure in the duality of my nature; the comfort in my subtle softness, the roughness of the base nature. It feels amazing against human skin. _I_ feel amazing against human skin. Ianto's skin feels both foreign and kindred; like he's supposed to be here with me, but I'm the way that human skin is so odd, both dry and moist simultaneously. When he lets me drape across his most intimate of places, using me in a way that I don't so much mind the resulting sticky filth...because he loves me. And _He_ really really liked seeing us together, which made _Ianto_ happy, so I'll manage. 

“I really like that coat”

Yeaaaah you do.


End file.
